


Heaven Is A Place On Earth

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions of love, M/M, did you know i hate myself, dragging castiel back from hell, i apologize if anything is ooc because i do not know these characters at all, i do not watch supernatural i saw three eps when i was 14, i just wanted to try my hand at fixing this, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: I tried my hand at fixing Supernatural's absolute travesty of an ending. I have only ever seen 3 episodes of the show in my life, and that was 6 years ago. I do not know these characters at all, other than what I've gathered from Tumblr and Twitter.Dean receives a message from Castiel in hell, and figures out how to bring him back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 4





	Heaven Is A Place On Earth

**Author's Note:**

> ooo baby do you know what that's worth  
> ooo heaven is a place on earth  
> all jokes aside this was a fun writing exercise, having to fill in what I didn't know about the characters and show with my own ideas. Would definitely recommend. also spn fans i'm so sorry  
> this is completely unedited and unbetad

For a while, everything burns. It’s a burning he’s felt before, but will never get used to. The ever-present fires of Hell. It’s worse than just the scald of a flame, though. It burns like acid, like friction, like pain you’d never believe. He’s been here before, and he’s gotten out before. But maybe not this time. 

\-----------

Dean is pacing. It’s all he can think to do. Pace, and worry. Sam, who’s currently on the phone with the insurance company, is giving him a dirty look. 

“They said they won’t pay for repairs for another ‘act of god.’” Sam said, putting a hand over the receiver. “You need to stop trying to run demons over with the car.”

“It’s not my fault they all stand in the road.” Dean grumbled, staring out the window at their car which had a demon-shaped dent in the hood. “Don’t we have bigger things to worry about right now?”

“It’s been two weeks, I don’t think he’s coming back.” Sam switched back to his conversation with the insurance people, cutting the conversation off.

Two weeks. Two weeks since Castiel had been yanked to hell. Two weeks since… well, that. He barely even wanted to admit to himself what it was. A… confession. Or at least, he thought it was one. There were a lot of types of love out there. Friendly love, brotherly love, parental love. Could’ve been that Cas just saw him as a very dear friend. Though all the crying led him to believe that it was probably more than that. 

Dean wasn’t a man to express his emotions well. He much preferred them bottled up, a tight cap keeping them hidden locked in a safe under the rug. So, when it came time to address those emotions, he struggled. How did he even feel towards Cas? He loved him as a friend, surely, and as his savior. One couldn’t help but love the person who literally dragged you out of Hell.

But what Cas was expressing was romantic love, and Dean had never been good in that department. His dating history often resulted in either trauma or death, which was beginning to turn him off of the prospect altogether. He didn’t care that Castiel was male, or at least male-presenting, since the angel was comfortable with whatever gender his host was. Dean had dated men in the past, with similar results to the women. Things just never worked out. His lifestyle was too messy. Too chaotic. 

And Cas, well, Cas wasn’t even human. He was an angel. One who wasn’t always good at his job, but an angel nonetheless, which meant he would live on for eternity while Dean would grow old. The prospect was a depressing one. 

Dean realized he couldn’t keep standing there, lamenting to himself in a dingy motel room, so he left Sam on the phone and walked out. As much as he wanted to go for a drive, the car was too damaged to drive anywhere without getting pulled over. Instead he began to walk, heading nowhere in particular. They were in a small town, one he wasn’t all that familiar with, but he’d be able to find his way back. 

The sun was setting, and the night air was cool. Dean found his way to a park they had passed by on the way to the motel, hopping the gate to enter. 

Why was he feeling so conflicted about this? Surely he ought to know if he was in love with his closest friend or not. It was a simple yes or no question, one that he didn’t yet know the answer to. But perhaps the act of wondering confirmed it anyways. 

Suddenly, Dean felt a pain in his head, and heard a long, high-pitched shriek. For a moment, he wondered if he were having an aneurysm, but realized behind the shrieks he could hear a voice calling out to him.

“Dean!” The voice spoke, barely audible behind the sound, “Dean, please find me! Don’t leave me here!”

Instantly Dean knew who it was. “Cas?” 

“I don’t have time, Dean,” Cas’s voice was pained, “I can show you how to free me, but I can’t tell you.” 

Dean was surprised by the sudden knowledge that had been planted in his head. It was a kind of ritual summoning, to drag someone out of hell. It would be difficult, and deadly if done wrong. “I don’t think I can do this without your help!”

“You’ll have to. I’m using too much energy to contact you now as it is.” The shrieks were starting to overpower his voice. “Please, Dean. I can’t get out of here without you.” 

In a flash, the shrieks and pain were gone. Dean was filled with a righteous determination, and made his way back to the motel room. 

“I know how to free him.” Dean said, throwing the door open. “He contacted me, I-”

He stopped, as he realised Sam was still on the phone. 

‘How much longer?’ He mouthed, motioning to his watch.

Sam shrugged. ‘What were you saying?’ He mouthed back.

Dean waved a hand in a “never mind” fashion, and left again. He could at the very least get started on the ritual to get Cas back by collecting the necessary materials. 

He would need candles, and lots of them. A shovel. Some wine, type up to him. Some kind of bone. Paper, or something to draw a sort of sigil on. Most of which could be picked up at the nearby Wal-Mart. 

The candles didn’t need to be a specific size, so he got three packs of birthday candles. The shovel he already had. For the wine, he settled on one cheap enough he wouldn’t mind wasting it, but not too cheap that he wouldn’t want to drink what was left over. They sold bone for stocks, and he grabbed a notebook for paper. He also grabbed a box of zebra cakes, since Hell-raising was hungry stuff. Plus, Cas might want something to eat after he’s dragged out of hell. Not that he needs to eat, but Dean knew the angel had his temptations. 

Dean thought about it again, as he waited in line at the checkout. Was that love, knowing your angel friend’s human comforts? He was certain Sam probably didn’t know that. And Sam also didn’t have Castiel’s handprint burned into his flesh for eternity. 

He was so out of it, he didn’t even realize the cashier was done scanning his items. “You good, man?”

Dean shook himself out of his stupor. “Yeah, yeah. Say, how do you figure out if you’re in love with your best friend?”

The cashier looked at him with hate in his eyes. “No offense dude, but I am not paid enough to give relationship advice.”

“That’s fair.” 

His items now in hand, he returned to the motel room, to find Sam still on the phone. 

“They put me on hold.” Sam had the phone sitting on his chest on speaker, the tinny hold music playing out loud. “What the hell were you trying to say earlier?”

“I know how to get him out. He sent me a vision.”

“Who, Castiel? How’d he manage to do that?”

“No idea. But he showed me how to do a certain ritual to get him out, so I went and got the supplies.” 

Sam eyed the items now scattered on Dean’s bed. “Birthday candles, wine, bone, and zebra cakes? Sounds like a party.”

“The cakes are mine. Everything else, though, that’s for the ritual.” 

“What do you have to do?”

“Dig a hole, put the candles around it, put a paper with a sigil drawn on it in the center, throw the bones and wine in, light the candles, and do a couple chants. If I do it right, it’ll send my consciousness into Hell so I can find him and pull him out.”

“And if you do it wrong?”

“Then we’re all screwed.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I hate to ask, but is it worth it?”

“Worth it? Why wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“I just mean, if it’s such a risk, why don’t you wait to find a safer way?”

Dean felt angry, somehow. The proposal wasn’t unreasonable, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “He asked me to do it. I’m not gonna let him down.”

“Also, why does he need your help? He’s an angel, can’t he find his own way out?”

That was it. Dean didn’t need Sam’s help to fix this. “I told you, he asked for my help. And he pulled me out of Hell once, it’s only right if I do the same for him.” He gathered up his supplies and once again made for the door. “Have fun being on hold.”

“Dean, what did I-”

Dean slammed the door. He headed back down the road into the park. He made certain to find somewhere secluded, where the police wouldn’t question what he was doing. Then, he started to dig. The hole required was to be shaped like a grave, and six feet down. Not an easy feat, but he had all the time in the world. 

It took him a few hours to get the hole finished, and by the end he was filthy. He hauled himself out of his makeshift grave, and drew the sigil on the paper. It was something angelic in origin, though he couldn’t tell what it meant. He dropped the paper down into the hole. Next came the bones, which he just dumped in, and the wine, which required about half a bottle. He lit the candles, and began to chant. 

At first, nothing happened. But his vision began to get darker, and suddenly, he was falling. He could feel the sensation of flames, but without the burn, and he could see them all around his… face? Even though he no longer seemed to have a face. He was a floating consciousness, both existent in hell and in the real world. The screams were just as bad as in Cas’s mental conversation.

“Cas?” He called out, his voice distorted. “Cas!”

No reply. He decided to float higher, going above the flames. “Cas! Where are you? Yell or something!”

Even if he did yell, the sounds of the damned would drown it out. He’d have to find Cas on his own, somehow. The problem was, he only had until the candles melted to find him. If he failed, his consciousness would be barred from entering Hell again until he died. 

“Shit, Cas, where are you?” He soared above the shades, each suffering in eternal torment. Most of them were your average people. A number of politicians. But still no sign of Cas, and time was running out. 

Out of the screams, he heard a whisper. “Dean!” 

Dean flew to where the whisper had come from. It was so quiet, he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but at least he had the right area. “Cas! I’m here!”

“Dean!” Another whisper, fainter this time. All the screams were becoming faint, signaling that his time was almost up. 

Finally, he spotted him. Ragged, ghostly, and scarred, but the angel he knew nonetheless. He flew towards him, slamming into him at full speed. 

Dean rocketed back into his body, finding himself falling forwards into the pit. He hit something fleshy and warm when he got there, but it took him a few seconds for his vision to return, so he didn’t immediately concern himself with what it was.

“Ow.” Dean said. He realized that the warm fleshy thing he had landed on was a person, who was currently breathing heavily. His eyes widened. “Cas?”

Castiel, who ended up totally nude in the wine-soaked mud, was in some kind of shock. Probably from being dragged, or more like slammed, out of hell. He looked a little singed from hell’s flames, but overall he was fine. 

“Cas, you with me buddy?”

“It would appear that I am. I… that worked better than I had hoped it would.”

Dean realized he was still laying on top of the poor man, so he rolled off of him, landing in the mud. “Still got all your fingers and toes?”

“Last I checked, yes.” Hesitantly, he sat up, looking down at his chest. Though it was dark, Dean could see the faint imprint of a head-shaped circle on his skin. Oops. “Excellent job. Most people don’t get that ritual right on their first try.”

“Well, I’m not most people.” Dean hoped the inflection in his voice would show that he was joking. 

He didn’t expect him to say, “No, you’re not.”

Instead of dwelling on the way that made his heart soar, Dean focused on the matter at hand. “You alright? You just got headbutted back from hell.”

“I’m a bit sore all over. And I’m tired. And I… don’t know where my clothes went.”

Right, that. Dean didn’t have a spare pair of pants, but he was wearing a jacket, so he gave it to Cas. When the angel tried to refuse, Dean made an effort to put the jacket around his shoulders. “Take it, Cas. It’s cold out.”

“Thank you. For that, and for bringing me back. Frankly, I didn’t know if you would, so it’s reassuring that my fears were unfounded.”

“You know I would never just leave you to burn in hell. You did it for me, it’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

“Right. Fairness.” Cas moved to stand, but nearly toppled over. Dean quickly moved to catch him, steadying him with his arms. “This vessel is still a little woozy from the journey, I’m afraid.” 

“That’s ok. Not like we have anywhere to be.” Dean remembered the last thing he had brought to the ritual. The one that wasn’t important, but could prove useful. “Think you can get yourself out of this hole, or do you need my help?”

“We’ll certainly find out, won’t we?” 

Dean took that to mean no, and so he climbed out of the hole himself. He held out a hand to Cas, and he took it. Dean pulled him up from the grave-like hole, helping him sit down on the grass. He grabbed the box of zebra cakes and offered Cas a pack. 

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Did you get these for me?”

“Yeah, I knew you liked em, and you’d probably want something normal after you got out of hell.” Dean opened himself up a packet, eating one of the small cakes. He was starving from digging all night. “Say, these aren’t bad.” 

“One of my little human pleasures.” Cas eyed the cakes pensively. “Dean, there’s something I have to say.” 

“Go for it.” 

“I didn’t know if you would want to pull me back from hell after my revelation to you. It was my greatest fear that I had ruined a most beautiful friendship, and I hope you can forgive me for picking such an inopportune time to make such a confession. But there was naught else I could think to do, and saving your life was more important to me than anything.” Cas was beginning to cry. It hurt Dean to see him so distraught about this. “I could have come back on my own in time, but this way I could come back faster, and prove to myself you don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you. Not when you’ve done so much for me and Sam.” 

“But you don’t reciprocate.” 

Dean had realized, after all that, it couldn’t just be friendship he held towards this man. It was clearly muddled and suppressed from years of being on his own, but it was affection nonetheless. He put a hand on Cas’s arm, testing the waters. “Actually I…”

As Dean was about to speak, the sound of a car door closing nearby alerted him to the fact a police officer had just arrived at the park. That wasn’t a good sign. There was still a six foot deep hole in the ground, and Cas still wasn’t wearing any pants. 

“Shit, we gotta get out of here or else we’ll get arrested.” 

“You brought me back from hell in a public park?”

“Listen, I know absolutely nothing about this town. It seemed the safest place to do it.” Dean stood, offering a hand to help Cas get up. “Think you can run?”

“I can try, I can’t guarantee how good I’ll be.”

“Good enough.”

Dean grabbed Cas by the hand, and together they ran out of the park, making a wide berth around the police. Fortunately it was dark, so there was nobody around to question why two men covered in mud, one of them naked, were running through the streets. After only a few wrong turns they made it to the motel, and were greeted by a very surprised Sam, still on hold. 

“What in the fresh hell?” Sam muttered, taking it all in. 

“I told you it would work. I am at least a little competent.” Dean went to his suitcase and found the only clean pair of jeans he had, handing them to Cas. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Bathroom’s just over there.”

Cas nodded, disappearing into the motel’s dingy bathroom. Dean turned to Sam, rather proud that he had once again proved himself right. 

“How long have you been on the phone, anyhow?” Dean asked. 

“Like 16 hours.” 

“Maybe try calling back in the morning. It seems like they’ve forgotten about you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam tapped his phone, hanging up the call. “I wish you’d have told me you were doing that. It’s not safe to do something like that alone. What if you’d gotten yourself trapped in Hell again?” 

“I tried to tell you, you just refused to help me. And it’s not like I haven’t done more dangerous things before.” 

Sam shook his head. “It’s more than that, though. It was impulsive. You’ve been like that since Cas went to Hell. And you never told me what happened there.”

“It’s a long story.” Dean sat down in the motel’s desk chair, not looking at Sam. “I… I had my eyes opened, I’ll say that.” 

“He’s in love with you, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” 

Dean sighed. “Yeah.” 

“And you felt guilty, so you felt like you had to.” 

“No, I wanted to. He’s your friend too, Sam.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who had to turn him down.” 

Dean frowned. “I never turned him down.”

“But you’re straight?” 

“No I’m not.” 

“What? Since when?” 

“I dunno. Forever, I guess. How did you not know? I’ve had relationships with men while we’ve been hunting together.” 

“You have?” 

Fortunately, saving Sam from further embarrassment, Castiel exited the bathroom, steam pouring out the door. Dean was struck by how domestic he looked, the dark jeans low on his hips and his hair wet and tousled. 

“Thanks for the pants.” Cas said, his stance betraying how awkward he probably felt. 

Dean didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m gonna get cleaned up.” 

—————

When Dean got out of the shower, Sam had left. Off to get a beer, according to Cas. Dean knew he was probably just leaving to get out of the situation. Cas sat at the desk, his hand tapping the wood. Dean couldn’t remember a time he had seen him this nervous before. 

“How’re you feeling?” Dean muttered, as he put his muddy clothes into a bag. He’d have to wash them later. 

“Well, I’m not burning in the fires of Hell anymore, so that’s an improvement.” 

“That’s good.” Plugging his phone in, Dean sat down on one of the dingy motel beds. “You know, I never got to thank you. For sacrificing yourself to save me, to save all of us. It was brave of you.”

“Thank you. I’m not used to being called brave, not with what I’ve done.” Cas stopped tapping the desk and looked up at Dean. “But I meant what I said, Dean. I love you.”

Dean stood, letting out a breath. He approached Cas, leaning on the desk, hoping the wood wouldn’t collapse under his weight. “I know. And I… I’ve spent a lot of time in my life repressing my emotions, out of fear. As if they’d compromise me, somehow. But I’m tired of that. I’m tired of a lot, now that I think about it. To be honest, I never expected to live this long. And I definitely never expected to meet someone like you.” With the care that one would treat a small bird, Dean reached out and caressed Cas’s cheek. “I love you too, Cas. I think I always have. But I was so self-absorbed, so obsessed with the idea that this hunting lifestyle would kill me that I couldn’t see the good thing right in front of me.” 

Cas put a hand over Dean’s, leaning into the touch. His expression was that of relief, like an exhale after holding your breath. “That’s alright. So long as we got here in the end, that’s what matters.”

\---------

The rest of the night passed without event. Sam didn’t return, apparently opting to get a second room, which Dean didn’t complain about. And when Dean awoke, he found the angel he loved in his arms, and for the first time in a while, felt truly and utterly happy.

**Author's Note:**

> unfortunate that they sent the only likeable character in the show to gay superhell. shame. also writing dean was hell cause in every image i've seen of him he has the emotional range of a brick. shoutout to you bitches who actually watch supernatural and use fanfics to fix the plot you're braver than any US marine.


End file.
